


Tapping Out.

by TheDarkestMindWithin



Series: Whumptober 2019 [10]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Armitage Hux is a Jerk, Character Death, Complete, F/M, Food Poisoning, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Murder, One Shot, Poison, Poisoning, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-11-16 16:04:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20863616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkestMindWithin/pseuds/TheDarkestMindWithin
Summary: The bruises start to fade after a few days, first the ones no-one can see and then the ones people can, he doesn't let me out again until all of them are gone, until I'm once again presentable as the happy little housewife. My stomach rolls at the title he gives me with affectionate pecks and soothing touches.Complete.





	Tapping Out.

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober Prompt: Poisoned.
> 
> Without Beta.

* * *

The bruises start to fade after a few days, first the ones no-one can see and then the ones people can, he doesn't let me out again until all of them are gone, until I'm once again presentable as the _happy little housewife_. My stomach rolls at the title he gives me with affectionate pecks and soothing touches.

It's not my fault, I used to think it was but I don't think like that anymore, I know it's not. That was what I believed when it was easier to simply believe that it was me, that it was me who needed to change, who had the _power_ to stop what he keeps doing. I was young then, _stupid._

He goes away often, he says it's business but he comes back with lipstick stains on his shirt collars and there's always women leaving messages on the home phone for weeks after he's returned from his _business trips_, they stop once they realise he won't return their calls, maybe they hear about his_ poor wife_ and that's why they stop calling. I hate the labels that are shoved onto me without a second thought. _Poor little Rey, married the wrong man and too stupid to leave_.

Maybe it's the idea of what they all say about me that finally makes me go _snap,_ maybe it's the white stick with the pink lines in the outside bin, _he checks the inside one_, maybe it's the beatings that grow more frequent or the rape that had started out as persuasive quick seconds and had slowly begun to turn into longer sadistic ordeals. I didn't care to find the answer, all I know now is that I have had enough.

He's coming back tonight, from a trip or an affair, I don't care which anymore. He's starving when he comes home and doesn't think twice about getting a glass of wine and stealing a mouthful of the freshly baked bread to go with dinner sitting on the side, he smells of cheap perfume and there's a lipstick stain still on his collar, he flaunts the infidelities in my face now, having stopped caring for my feelings a long time ago, _sooner than I stopped caring for his._

"Dinner won't be long," I say, keeping my voice as close to normal as I could, not that he'd take much notice if I had laughed the words at him, he made a grunting noise, kissed my cheek harshly before he went off to lounge somewhere, he always came back tired. Hopefully he paid his whores well, I think absently as I bend down in front of the oven and check over the roasting food. The smell made me feel nauseous but I force myself to remain, to finish checking the food and then go off to check the vegetable steaming on the cooker. My stomach continues to roll, the doctor said it was morning sickness, though I'm rarely sick in the mornings.

"That Ben Solo called your phone again today, Rey," Armitage calls from the living-room, he takes my phone when he goes away, he goes away and I stay inside, away from anyone who might work out that something's not right, my stomach flutters at the mention of Ben's name as I lean against the doorway adjoining the kitchen to the living-room, I keep a pleasantly surprised look on my face as he tears his gaze from the TV to me.

"Oh?" I tilt my head and lean more of my weight against the doorway, resist the urge to touch my belly, I'd started showing while he was away, not that he'd notice. A slight curve that looked like nothing more than a little weight gain, but I knew that it was my baby growing, slowly becoming a person.

"Hmm, he wants to have lunch on Friday," He continues, studying my reaction as I try to keep the right amount of interest in the conversation without making him think the wrong thing.

"I suppose you answered?" He nods and takes a deliberate sip of wine, slow and drawn out, he wants to keep me waiting. Wants to make me slip up, I don't, I learnt from past mistakes that asking more of him always ended in a beating, so I wait and he eventually delivers.

"I said that you could do Friday afternoon, actually, no point you staying all cooped up in here all the time." He says, eyes flickering back to mine, I see the game he's playing and play along to it, I smile, careful not to be too happy at the prospect of having lunch with Ben, I thank him for arranging it then I return to the kitchen, finishing making our meal while Armitage watches TV.

I put the two steaming plates down on the dining table, I'm meticulous with the flowers and candles and the way the cutlery are positioned on the table, I know how particular Armitage gets when I don't lay the places correctly and tonight I don't want any _mistakes_ to be made.

He comes in with his empty wineglass once all the food as been placed on our plates, I offer him a fresh glass of wine, careful to select the wineglass on the right when he accepts the offer, I had spiked the wine too, just in case he had declined a fresh glass. He didn't usually allow me to drink wine in the evenings he came home from a trip so I pour myself a glass of water.

"To your return," I toast, holding my glass up, this apparently takes him by surprise but he smiles nonetheless and toasts his own glass, I pause with the wineglass against my lips as I watch him guzzle the deep red liquid down his throat. It should only take a few minutes before it starts to work.

I wait and count the minutes, he coughs quickly after drinking, it becomes harder, he starts to choke and I watch as he struggles, tries to call for my help, I remain seated and watch with cold indifference as the life slowly chokes from his body and he collapses in a heap on the floor, he pulls the tablecloth with him and with it the contents of the table.

I'm free as I stare into his wide bloodshot eyes that gaze lifelessly back at me.


End file.
